


sleep my darling, safe and sound

by pndglcs



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cuddle, Fluff, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Midnight, Nightmare, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pndglcs/pseuds/pndglcs
Summary: In which Arthur had woken up from his ominous nightmare and Antonio was there to soothe.
Relationships: England/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	sleep my darling, safe and sound

It is another shift of bone-freezing midnight Antonio has to spend in London. Sky has fallen asleep long ago; nonetheless, Antonio is still awake, just finished reading an old book a while ago. He placed that shed-leather covered book on the nightstand before putting out the candle light.

Long, steady fingers wandering around the dusty surface of the aged wood. The Spanishman trails his green eyes to the brass bed next to him where Arthur wraps himself in a profound sleep. Antonio briefly watches the other’s shoulder before pulling a blanket up to his chest and rolls his back to the side. 

He reaches his pillow as he yawns and his eyelids get heavier, leaving the rest of the living soul outside remaining sleepless throughout the black chasmic night. He is barely aware of the cascading drizzle dancing on top of the roof, for the wind blows from the north, nuzzling a small branch of an old oak tree and Antonio can hear it faintly knocks the window. 

But in a sudden time there is a blow of thunder crying out of the black midnight sky, scattering the serene period and abruptly breaking everyone’s whimsical dream; at the same time Arthur wakes up with a loud, breathless gasps. He hastily gets up, sitting on his mattress half-conscious. His whole body shaking while his knuckles turn white when he squeezes hard his blanket, his mouth wide open as he is struggling to breath. 

His body is drenched in cold sweats. The fragment of a sinister abysmal nightmare still clings on his head. Arthur shifts his palm to his eyelids, inhaling a huge amount of oxygen down to his lungs as he attempts to calm himself down, but he fails. His tremble hasn’t stopped. He wants to cry yet he can't, as if he is too scared to burst all out or to scream even louder.

Antonio chances a glance through his eyelid. He lifts his neck a bit from the pillow, witnessing the young Englishman gasping for breath in his bed.

“Arthur …?” he mutters out the younger man’s name with a scant of concerned frown. Arthur tilts his head upon hearing the call, his eyes wide and dark. Fear smears all over his face; exhaustion swallowed him whole. “Did you just … have a nightmare?” Antonio probes, his long ebony lashes flutters. He shifts his hip a bit and opens up his duvet while patting his side to let the Englishman lay beside him. 

“Come here, you can sleep with me,” he offers, naively. Arthur doesn't move by slight, coldly refusing the kind offering. 

“You wouldn’t care,” he scoffs in a stubborn mannerism as usual. Weak coughs escape from his mouth and he grunts frustratedly. His baritone voice gets hoarse.

Antonio scowls at the stubborn retort. 

He doesn’t quite like it when Arthur denies his frailty to hold his ego lingers oh so high. Thus, without saying anything, the brown haired man strides towards the other bed. He sits on the edge of the bed afterwards while looking deep through the similar green eyes. 

“Antonio, get o―” Arthur was struggling to shove him off his bed at first; in spite of that he doesn’t feel uncomfortable when Antonio moves closer to him, shearing the gap between them.

“You could just be honest with me, Arthur.” 

He prones sharply. Arthur was flicked but then he lays a glare to the similar green eyes across him. “… of what?”

Antonio keeps staring at him with a serious face he rarely shows to others. He brings his warm hand against one side of Arthur’s cold cheek, his thumb softly caresses the pale skin. “If … if there’s something scared you, then it bothers you that it won’t stop haunting you, just let me know,” he pleads. “You don’t have to tell me what kind of nightmare you’ve had, but let me help you ...” 

As Antonio furrows his brows, Arthur averts his gaze. Self-loathe and confusion starts roaming down his chest. Antonio takes his palm to the tip of the Brit’s head to give him some calming pats. 

“You won’t be less manly if you have something you’re afraid of. Every man does. And I do as well. You’re the toughest gentleman I have ever known. Though, it’s totally okay to admit you have fears, or something that isn’t right on your mind, at least to me if you don’t want to tell anyone else,  _ gatito _ ,” 

“Don’t call me  _ that _ .” He frowns, then he sighs a frightful long breath. “I did. I had that nightmare again. And yes, I’m frightened. I am.” 

“I’m sorry, Antonio. I just don’t know how to tell anyone what I feel because I had never done it before. Not even with you,” he winces, smearing a tired vague smile. Maybe it’s the right time for Arthur to let his guards down. Maybe it’s alright for him to reveal his  _ true self  _ when it’s only him and Antonio here. Maybe it’s fine to show Antonio the vulnerability he always conceals from others.

He reaches the older man’s hand on his head and brings it down, laying immobilised against the sheet. He squeezes it desperately that Antonio can clearly feel how cold his inner palm is. Arthur holds his hand tight like a boy who doesn’t want to let go of his mother’s warm grasp.

_ He was always alone.  _

Antonio suddenly feels a piercing stab in his heart remembering that Arthur was always alone since he was very young; he survived his life alone, struggled alone, so that he is  _ this Arthur  _ now. It was all that had made Arthur like this.

Wrestling with his guilt, Antonio directs his gaze to their tangling hand before prompting back up to Arthur’s identical green orbs. He tugs a remorseful smile, a small gesture of an apology though he isn’t really sure Arthur will understand. “You shouldn't apologise … you’re not living all alone anymore.”

_ Because you have me. _

Arthur parts his grip as Antonio lifts his legs up to the bed and gets closer to him. He leans his back against the brass headboard, spreading his arm for Arthur. “Come, let’s cuddle close!”

With no more hesitation Arthur crawls closer; letting Antonio pull down his head to lean on his warm chest and put the Brit’s hand on his waist so he can wrap his whole arm on it. As the Spaniard stroked his ruffled hair his breathing gradually calmed. Antonio’s steady heartbeat echoing, his own breaths are deep and even, conducting a tranquil lullaby like no one else could soothe Arthur―and can make him smile without he even realising―but Antonio. He could never let anyone close to him like this, but Antonio is just different. 

When the first sting of cold wind creeps under his feet, Antonio runs a finger through the bridge of his nose, stroking it with the utmost affection he would cease. “Your brightest days await beyond the dawn,” he whispers some sweet nothings in his ear. “Sleep my darling, safe and sound.”

Arthur can never hold back tugging his own peaceful smile in his half-consciousness. His eyelids become heavy and they slowly droop in a few minutes, then he yawns, relishing the relaxing feelings from the strokes on his nose, from the warmth Antonio shared emitting to his own body, from the calming breath caressing the top of his head. He nuzzles more and lets Antonio clutch on him tighter. 

Whilst the rain gets heavier outside, for they are safe and warm in each other’s embrace. 

_ “Que duermas bien, mi querido,” _

As the Brit has completely fallen asleep with his head still resting on his chest, Antonio carefully slides down so that his back is leaning on the mattress. He pulls the duvet up over their shoulder while observing how much softer Arthur’s features are in his sleep; he looks way more peaceful. He is just a kid—a baby, to be frank—when he sleeps.

Antonio tugs a tender smile, giving him some final touches on his head before he falls asleep himself until the long awaiting sunrise knocks the weathered window shutter. 

**Author's Note:**

> there are currently two favourite songs in my playlist; All is Found (Evan Rachel Wood) and Hazard (Richard Marx) which inspired me to write this short fic. cheers!


End file.
